The Sorcerer's Stone
by Lizzie4707
Summary: This is just the first Harry Potter book with a new charcter and it's told from her point of view.


When I opened my eyes I found myself lying on a cold, dirty, stone floor. I stood up sluggishly and looked around - I was in a small, five by five foot room. There was a door on one wall, but I couldn't see past the thick wood. Even the small, bared window had a piece of wood placed over it from the other side.   
  
I looked around, and then sat down against the wall facing the door.   
  
I tried to remember what had happened before I was knocked out.   
  
I remembered the train station where the hooded figure had muttered something. Then he waved a stick at my and I followed him into an ally.   
  
That's where I was knocked out…but I didn't remember being attacked… it was like a spell…like magic…   
  
But the opening of the door interrupted my thoughts then.   
  
I stood up quickly, instantly filling with rage directed toward my captor. The hooded figure stepped in and pointed his . . . wand . . . at me, and muttered a . . . spell. I know, that sounds crazy.   
  
"Molilicorpus!"   
  
I instantly lost control of my arms and legs and was pulled a foot off the floor. I hung, suspended in midair, it was like I was being held up by invisible rope, fashioned to my wrists and ankles.   
  
I let out a scream as this happened, but quickly shut my mouth, afraid there would be a spell for keeping my mouth shut.   
  
The hooded man then took off his hood to reveal his grinning face.   
  
His face was pale and pointed with cold, gray eyes.   
  
"Why hello." He said teasingly, knowing he had me trapped.   
  
I tried to look brave and unafraid, but he saw the fear in my eyes.   
  
"Who are you?" I asked after silence from him.   
  
He grinned again, "I am, my dear, your godfather."   
  
With that he flicked his wrist, holding the wand and I was released and fell to the floor.   
  
I just caught the floor in my hands before my chin hit it. Then I slowly stood up, slowly because I was confused and didn't want him to attack me with magic.   
  
"But . . . you're a magical person (I didn't want to call him a wizard and him say he was a magician or a something else and get mad, or the other way around) . . . and is that a wand?"   
  
He looked at me as if I was stupid. "Yes, surly you know your not a mere muggle, that you're a witch?"   
  
Now I stood, and was completely confused. "What's a muggle?"   
  
He looked at me, suddenly very angry, which made me very scared he might take that anger out on me.   
  
Then, like a flash of lightning, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me out of the small room, which lead into a longer version of it. There were a few more wooden doors against the same wall that the one we just came out of was on. I was sure those lead to other cells. At the far end of the "dungeon" there was a staircase – that's where he was pulling me, walking swiftly, while I had to jog slightly to keep up with him.   
  
We hastily went up the staircase and I was pulled into a lounge type room, which was lit by a blazing fireplace on one wall.   
  
My wrist was freed and when I looked at it, I saw it red, but it didn't hurt.   
  
I watched my captor, not bothering to look around the room as he took some kind of powder out of a velvet bag on a shelf over the fireplace and threw it into the flames. Instantly a face appeared in the center of the fireplace, over the flames.   
  
My "godfather" seemed very angry with the man in the flames.   
  
"Oh, hello Lucius," the flaming head spoke.   
  
"Don't 'hello' me! You set me up! My goddaughter thinks she's a muggle, she doesn't know anything about magic!"   
  
At this the flaming head seemed nervous and looked around. "Well, yes . . . you see, she grew up in a muggle children's home."   
  
Lucius - as I now knew him – seemed very irritated and annoyed at this man . . . and at me.   
  
"I'm sorry, I -" but he was cut off by Lucius.   
  
"Shut up, bastard, and get out of my sight." With a wave of Lucius's wand the head in the fire vanished and the blaze returned to normal.   
  
He then looked at me with a straight, angry face.   
  
I flinched.   
  
He grinned.   
  
"Very well, I don't have time to explain it all to you, but I'm sure my son is doing something he shouldn't, so I'll get him to tell you all he knows about the wizarding world."   
  
I nodded, but stayed silent.   
  
"Follow me."   
  
So I followed him into a dark hallway that was so thick someone could have drove a truck through it.   
  
"Lumos," he said, holding out his wand and a light appeared at the end of the thin baton, like a torch that lit a path for us.   
  
I looked around, there were many doors on either side, all closed, which must have led into other rooms. We walked down the hallway and came to a huge staircase on one side, which led down to where the entrance room was.   
  
However, we passed that staircase and continued and three yards from the flight of steps we stopped at a door, which Lucius knocked on.   
  
This must have been his son's room, since a boy my age answered it, of whom, I assumed was his son.   
  
It's not that he was a little ugly looking; it was that he was incredibly ugly looking, kind of big – muscle wise, not fat, but just a half a foot taller then me, and he looked nothing like his father.   
  
He glanced at me, and then looked up at Lucius. "Yes?"   
  
"This is . . ." He looked at me, questioningly.   
  
"Liz." I said quickly.   
  
"Yes, yes, take her to Draco and tell him she thinks as a muggle and he needs to tell her about the wizarding world."   
  
"Yes, sir."   
  
"And comment that she's not a mudblood, I don't need him getting into fights with her."   
  
"Yes, sir."   
  
"Good." With that he left me standing in the hallway, the boy motioned for me to come in the room.   
  
As I stepped in he shut the door behind me.   
  
Looking around the room, I saw the ceiling was very high, about twenty feet, but I wasn't sure because it was as black as the walls, and it was hard to tell where it ended . . . if it even did, it might be the black night I see with no ceiling, but it didn't feel like night, course I couldn't tell, I didn't know how long I had been knocked out in that cell. There was a closet on the wall right to the door and another door leading to what I assumed was a bathroom on the left wall. The only piece of furniture in the room was a king-sized bed with black covers and one of those drapes over it, with a curtain that could be wrapped around the bed. On the bed were two sitting boys; another that looked similar to the one that answered the door and the second I assumed was Draco. He was blonde, different from the other two's black hair and had a face similar to his fathers.   
  
I followed the door-answer over to the bed, where he told Draco what Lucius told him. All the while Draco was looking at me, I tried to avoid his gaze by looking around, but he only looked at the black-haired boy when he was done reporting.   
  
"Fine, move out of the way, Goyle."   
  
"Goyle" moved out of the way.   
  
Draco looked me up and down, as if sizing me up. Finally he spoke. "This is Crabbe, and Goyle, I'm Draco. I suppose you're the godsister my father told me of?"   
  
I didn't know how to answer. "Yes?"   
  
He didn't take it as a question though.   
  
"Okay," he grinned. "Come sit on the bed with us," he told me, then to Goyle: "and you, move it, sit on the other side."   
  
I watched, nervous and sat down on the edge of the end of the bed, far away from them. I was still scared they were going to use magic on me.   
  
Draco frowned, but went into a speech, which taught me a lot. He told me a little about wizards, and then moved on to a place called Diagon Ally. After that he told me of his school, Hogwarts, which was where his father - my godfather - was going to send him and me when the term started.   
  
He told me a lot about a boy named Harry Potter, of whom Draco was determined to make friends with and help become as dark-hearted as he was now – of course he didn't say those exact words, but that's the conclusion I came to in my head.   
  
I also knew (though he didn't tell me straight out) that's what he and his father wanted from me, because I wasn't a mudblood (he had told me what a mudblood was), and I lived with them, and for some reason I was like a few select wizards and my blood was stronger, so my spells would be more powerful and more easily accomplished – like the wizard Dumbledore, or Voldemort.   
  
The last things he told me about were the Hogwarts Express and Hogsmade. After he finished he gave me a minute to put it all together and let it sink in. Then: "As I've told you, some wizards are better then others, and you could become one of the best, I can help you get to the top." He then stuck out his hand for me to shake.   
  
I stared at his hand a minute, then slowly raised mine, which I, more quickly, put in his and we shook; he grinned; I smiled. 


End file.
